August 29, 2025

Seven Sins System Chapter 676. Overthink

I stared at the bag like it betrayed me. Like it had packed the thing all on its own.

“…Idiot,” I muttered to myself.

I could’ve tossed it. Could’ve eaten both like some overcompensating gym rat. Could’ve left it on a bench and told myself someone else would need it more.

But no.

It was hers.

Even if I didn’t say it out loud.

Even if I hadn’t said anything at all since that last talk. Since that almost-kiss that burned more than it healed.

I didn’t overthink it.

I just moved.

‘Teleportation.'

Reality twisted like a pulled thread. The dorm's muted walls and echoing corridor folded inward—and a heartbeat later, I was somewhere else entirely.

Her room.

I appeared just inside the space, the scent of cleansing incense and holy-infused linen instantly biting my nose. Not enough to burn—but enough to remind me this was her space. Clean. Sacred. Controlled.

Her room was neater than mine. No surprise. Everything had its place. Notebooks stacked perfectly by the lamp. Quills and pens organized by size and ink type. Bed made. Sheets tucked. Zero laundry in sight. There was a small prayer shelf in the corner—of course there was—with a cracked angelic relic sitting dead center like it still held meaning.

It didn’t reek of judgment.

But it wasn’t casual either.

And her?

She wasn’t here.

My eyes flicked to the slightly open bathroom door. Steam rolled lazily from the gap beneath it, curling into the room like breath. I could hear the soft sound of water splashing. Running.

She was bathing. Morning ritual. She always moved with purpose. Like she was preparing for war.

I didn’t say a word.

Didn’t announce myself.

Didn’t knock.

I just walked to her desk—bare except for a journal, a few folded notes, and a faint aura of holy magic sealed into the wood from years of use.

I placed the sandwich down. Still warm. Wrapped. Simple.

Next to it, I added a small stack of mortal cash.

Because I knew.

I knew she was broke.

Worse than me, even.

But she wouldn’t do a crime. Not like me.

I could bend rules, break them, shatter them if needed—call it strategy, survival, sin.

But her?

She’d rather starve.

She’d rather go hungry and pretend it didn’t hurt. Rather ration dignity like a prayer than take what wasn’t offered.

And me?

I didn’t judge her for it.

Didn’t want to change it.

I just… didn’t care anymore about the lines I crossed for her.

I didn’t care if the world called it pity.

I didn’t care if I looked soft.

I didn’t care that her mother started a war or that her bloodline was tangled in light and lies.

I didn’t love her because she was pure.

I loved her because she refused to stop being herself—even when it hurt.

No… I loved her because I loved her. It sounded stupid, but I already accepted it.

And yeah. She was mine.

She always had been.

Once mine, forever mine.

I turned away from the desk, already reaching for my teleportation skill again. Just one more jump before I started pretending to be normal again.

But I glanced once—just once—at the door again.

I knew she knew I was here.

Of course she did.

Her senses were too sharp, her presence too attuned to mine. The shift in air, the hum of my portal, the scent I always left behind—she felt it.

But I didn’t hope she would come out to meet me.

That wasn’t the point.

It was her decision.

Behind it, water still ran.

She was still in there.

Probably brushing out her hair, running her hands through the steam, trying to calm that divine edge that never really slept.

She’d walk out and see the sandwich. The money.

Maybe she’d scowl.

Maybe she’d whisper my name.

Or maybe she’d just smile. Softly. Alone.

And that was enough.

‘Teleportation.’

And I was gone.

Back to my room.

Back to the dull light and academy routine. The kettle still humming on the counter. The faint smell of toast lingering in the air.

I moved like nothing happened.

Buttoned my coat. Tied my boots. Grabbed my notebook and walked out the door like just another tired faculty member heading to morning check-ins.

But you know the weird part?

It didn’t hurt anymore.

Not like before.

The weight in my chest wasn’t choking. My limbs didn’t feel like they were dragging sins behind them. My jaw wasn’t clenched to keep a scream buried.

The ache was still there. Sure.

But the sharp edges?

Gone.

Because I wasn’t in a dilemma anymore.

I’d chosen.

I didn’t need her to chase me or forgive me or explain herself. I didn’t need to stare at her across the courtyard and wonder if her silence meant hate or fear or unfinished love.

I knew what it meant now.

It meant space.

And I gave it to her.

Because I didn’t want to be the devil that punished her for her mother’s war. I didn’t want her carrying my guilt or hers or anyone’s. I just wanted her to breathe. To find herself again. To stop looking at me like I might become the monster everyone told her I already was.

So yeah.

I left a sandwich. And some cash. And a part of me that didn’t need to be seen, just… received.

Maybe she’d eat it.

Maybe she wouldn’t.

Didn’t matter.

She was still mine.

Even if she didn’t say it.

And that truth?

It didn’t break me anymore.

It steadied me.

So I walked.

Down the hall. Past other students. Past professors who only nodded. Through sunlight that was too bright and wind that smelled like training and overgrown fieldwork.

I walked like a man who’d finally remembered who he was.

Devil.

Doctor.

Partner.

And still—

Still—

capable of loving something I couldn’t fix.